What had been unimportant mere seconds ago slowly pressed against his senses: the bright moonlight, the sigh of the night breeze, the distant hoot of an owl. The shadows of the trees rising up around them, the slow groaning of their wooden breathing—Rory floated somewhere just outside of his own skin, his awareness melted into something shapeless seeping into the body-warmed moss. Somewhere down by his thighs Jigano coughed, a sharp sound that did not belong, and Rory's fingers traced soothing patterns on his shoulder. The movement felt at odds with his dreamlike state, a way of waking up, though he didn't quite want to.
Then Jigano gave him a last little lick, sending a jolt of surprise through him, a shudder coursing through his body at the unexpected contact.
The memory of that mouth around him was fresh, and complex, gratitude and amazement and contentment and a slightly calmed hunger—he had felt feral, wild, dangerous, and now he felt full of wonder instead. In the touch of skin on skin there seemed to be a promise, of this happening again, of a give and take, words perhaps and guiding hands. Sighing, a content sound, he wrapped his arms loosely around Jigano as the other crawled up to rest his head against his shoulder. He didn't want to get ahead of himself, and he was happy to remain where he was, pleasantly spent and with the warmth trapped between their sweat-slick skin.
After a while, though, Rory turned his head to brush his lips over Jigano's forehead. "This was much more satisfying than dancing," he murmured with a slight grin.
Then Jigano gave him a last little lick, sending a jolt of surprise through him, a shudder coursing through his body at the unexpected contact.
The memory of that mouth around him was fresh, and complex, gratitude and amazement and contentment and a slightly calmed hunger—he had felt feral, wild, dangerous, and now he felt full of wonder instead. In the touch of skin on skin there seemed to be a promise, of this happening again, of a give and take, words perhaps and guiding hands. Sighing, a content sound, he wrapped his arms loosely around Jigano as the other crawled up to rest his head against his shoulder. He didn't want to get ahead of himself, and he was happy to remain where he was, pleasantly spent and with the warmth trapped between their sweat-slick skin.
After a while, though, Rory turned his head to brush his lips over Jigano's forehead. "This was much more satisfying than dancing," he murmured with a slight grin.
